One Smile
by X23 Maximoff
Summary: And as I sat there, amidst all the happiness and boistrous activity, I found myself hoping, praying almost, that he would allow the company, me, a simple smile...Remus OneShot 1981


hey all! i wrote this a long time ago, on a whim, and kind of just wanted to post it in honor of deathly hallows. there's no spoilers for it, so no worries!

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November 1, 1981. It was such a joyous day, such a happy occasion. You-know-who was gone, and the wizarding world free at last of the turmoil and dark times in which it had been cast into before. There had been very little work today at St. Mungo's, for no one was getting hit with spells and hexes that were unidentifiable and barely, if at all, curable. Oh, yes, it was a happy day.

I remember it was brisk outside when I exited from the hospital. The frisky weather combined with the happiness that was thick in the air was making everyone antsy for a celebration that night. Even the Longbottoms, who were often quite sombor and confunded-looking, seemed to sense the excitement in the air. Alice had even smiled today, and it almost brought me to tears the way she had looked like her old self. I hadn't known Alice that well at Hogwarts, she was a 7th year when I was in 1st, but she was always nice. Probably one of the most lovely people I had met. I shook my head at the fact that such an awful thing had to happen to such a wonderful person, and tucked the candy wrapper she gave me into my purse. Though it really wasn't anything but a piece of trash, I couldn't bring myself to get rid of it.

Hogsmeade was loud and bright with celebration. I remember thinking that the large amount of fireworks might be a dangerous hazard for people's eyes. The thought soon passed, however, as the glorious event which we were celebrating forced its way back into my mind.

Such sacrifice. Such beauty. I made a mental note to myself that when I got to Heaven or Hell or where ever it is we go, to find Lily and James Potter and thank them. For what, I'm not sure, but I was very thankful for them.

The Three Broomsticks was bustling with noise. I couldn't even find my own table, I had shared with a group that was in Hufflepuff during my years, if I remembered correctly. They were amicable all the same; everyone was.

I drank and sang and laughed with the rest of the pub. Why wouldn't I? Why wouldn't anyone? You-Know-Who was gone, and the one who had turned in the Potters was in Azkaban. Freedom tasted oh-so-sweet.

This is when I noticed him.

I had known him, perhaps, during my years at Hogwarts. His name and person escaped me then. But I knew I had seen his face. It was not some long-lost-love-interest, nor a age-old-sworn-enemy. No, the thing that struck me about him was his expression.

While everyone around him was laughing and joking and declaring that they knew all along that this marvellous day would come, he was sitting at the bar frowning. Not even frowning; he looked positively devastated. His features, which I am sure would have otherwise been handsome, were drawn in a forlorn fashion, his eyes expressing a great wave of loss.

I had wondered then what it is that would make him so sad.

It was late into the night when I had decided to go back to my flat. I had not laughed as I did before, I did not drink or sing or praise. I had sat, looking at that poor man, contemplating what was going through his mind. And as I sat there, amidst all the happiness and boistrous activity, I found myself hoping, praying almost, that he would allow the company, me, a simple smile. Why was he not happy? He was supposed to be happy. Everyone was. I found myself violently wishing for his happiness.

It was only later that I learned who he was, what he had lost. He had been given a short interview in the Daily Prophet a couple days later. I remembered him each time he came into the hospital, looking for a specific wound-healing salve that could only be prescribed, when he would look at me with those eyes full of loss, and offer a tight, polite smile. But that is not the smile I had been looking for that night, and to this day I hope that somewhere, somehow, that man has learned to smile again.


End file.
